Mr Fix It
by NurseLintu
Summary: Castiel buys a new house in a new neighborhood. What a pity when things start going wrong on a weekend, no less. Gosh darn the Monday - Friday 9 - 5 world. Thank goodness for the helpful super-engineer/plumber/fixer upper guy from Winchester Plumbing And Electrical 24/7 R&R Oh, and people, it's me; there probably will be filth, so if you don't like it, don't read it! Hello smut!
1. Chapter 1

**Funny how a real life event and a real life conversation can lead to things like this... Just a likkle one again ^-^ I can't seem to write anything decent at the moment ): I don't know what's going on with the tenses in this... I have nothing to do with it. Sorry :s**

**So this is likely to be three chapters, because I'm basing it on my own problems at home, which I turned in to a naughty joke, in the most innocent of ways (the words "I'm having a pile of blokes over in the morning" were used) and the reply was "Sounds like the start to one of your stories" and so the idea was born – All thanks to halle mcready, please :p **

**So poor Cas is going to have THREE things go wrong with his lovely new house within the first month or so of living there, because if I can have those three pack up in a matter of five weeks, so can he (:**

**Please enjoy. And the usual warnings. I can't help myself, I will probably become rather graphic, so you twits sitting there, reading the "heavy smut" warning labels, please don't go reading it then whingeing about it afterwards. Save yourself the hassle. If you like filth, I'm your (wo)man, if not, then turn away now! Run as far as you can, and never come back! Only my Dexter/Supernatural crossover will be safe from smut! You have been adequately warned. Those of you staying for the ride, I hope you enjoy it (: Reviews very much appreciated, and I will review your work in return (:**

Castiel Novak lives in rather a nice house. It was two storeys, but the upstairs windows kind of poke out the roof, so it looks more like a bungalow with high set eyes. He likes his house anyway. It has a lovely garden that stretches right around it. His closest neighbors are close enough to have a loud conversation from front door to front door with, or from letter box to letter box. They aren't so close that you can hear every time they so much as raise their voices in a debate. So all in all, it's pretty much perfect. The street is a quiet one in the suburbs. There are a few kids who like to run about in the gardens and on the sidewalks, but they all seem pleasant enough. None of them too dense to realize you don't run out in front of a car. The neighbors on one side are a family, Mom, Dad, teenage girl and a boy of eleven. He can sometimes hear the girl drama queening about something or another, but it's rare, and doesn't tend to go on long enough to become a real nuisance. The neighbors on the other side of him are a dear old retired couple, who seem to dedicate their very existence to tending to the garden and their two Persian cats. The cats have taken it upon themselves to go in to Cas' garden and pee and crap on his flowerbeds a few times. He's never complained about it, but he would certainly turn his hose on them if he thought no one was looking. Perhaps he'd settle for the sprinklers, because he could claim ignorance then.

It had been another typical day at work, sitting on his behind editing page after page of some hardly-known author's latest novel. Hardly the most thrilling occupation, but his stint as a managing director in his previous job, despite having helped him pay off the mortgage on his old house and given him the opportunity to buy this one, had turned sour after he fell out with a co worker, and the pair of them had handed in their resignations at the same time. Something more bog standard suited Cas more, and he was happier in this job than he ever had been in the last one. He had worked out that he would be able to pay the mortgage off in full over the next five years on this wage, provided all goes well. It was a great deal smaller than his old house, and not so close to amenities, but it made up for it in character. And being out of the middle of the busy city was hardly a disappointment.

A cup of coffee was definitely in order. And today's newspaper before a good old round of the news on the telly. Nothing like watching the news and daily politics to give yourself high blood pressure.

Dinner consists of a Chinese take away he'd bought on his way home, because Cas simply can't be bothered to cook tonight. It's a Friday, for Heaven's sake. Give a man a break. Saturday will probably be pizza, but Sunday. Well. Sunday will be the most beasting roast you can imagine. You name it, he's got it. Perhaps lamb this week. There's some in the freezer, and he's pretty sure the date is getting close on it. Sorted. No worries about eating this weekend.

The news serves as a fantastic source of annoyance, and Cas feels ten times more stressed after watching it than he had after having to trawl through the most mistake-ridden poem he had ever encountered first thing that morning. How some things got as far as the publishing stage, he will never know. Cas flicks for a while, as men do, then concludes that, just for a change, there is bugger all on telly, and it would make more sense to just have a nice bath and go to bed.

It's only ten o clock, but he's long past the age where he has to stay up late to be cool. Or even that being cool is an issue at all.

He likes to put on his electric blanket before he starts running a bath, so his bed is lovely and toasty for him to get in to. After that mission is accomplished, he puts the plug in the hole and turns the faucet on full. It usually only takes about five minutes to fill the bath to an acceptable level, then he tops it up with cold until it becomes a temperature that won't render him unconscious.

The fun begins when he returns to the bathroom to top up with cold water. He turns off the hot tap and turns on the cold one. "Oh." The water in the bath is ice freakin cold. "For fucks sakes." He checks that he has used the correct taps, and stares at the bath in confusion. He walks to the sink and turns the faucet on full blast. Cold. "Great." He turns that off, turns off the one at the bath and unplugs the bath. "Fucking boiler." Downstairs to yell at the boiler it is. The boiler had been turned off when he moved in – just a week ago, might he add – but he had turned it on, and everything appeared to be hunky dory. The days of having a landlord were long gone, and Cas suddenly wished he had returned to rented accommodation. It was so much easier to ring an agent or a landlord and bitch at them and get them to sort it out than having to go through the whole rigmarole yourself. He tinkered with the boiler for a few minutes before giving up. The blasted pilot light was out, and no amount of off/on, press reset button, turn up water pressure, swear at it, thump it or any of the usual treatment appeared to be working. "Fuck."

Cas decides sitting and sulking will have to do for now. Shock, the shower isn't electric, and it runs off the damned boiler too, so he'll have to stink for a bit longer. It's not like he even knows anyone well enough to ask if he can have a quick shower. He'll literally have to boil the kettle and fill the sodding sink and wash from that. Twenty first century, hey? He went to bed in a fine mood, and woke up not much happier the next day. So much for a new start. New house, new baby. Apparently this baby will be in the shape of a boiler.

After coffee and toast, Cas starts his mission of going through the phone book to find a plumber. The first two go to answer phone and state chirpily that they operate between the hours of 9 and 5, Monday to Friday, leave a name and number and they will get back to you. Well what use was that? Why is it that people expect things to go wrong between 9 and 5 Monday to Friday? Most of the time they wait until the blinking weekend so you can't do anything about it. In that respect, not having to wait around to contact your agent was a relief.

"Winchester Plumbing and Electrical 24/7." Cas snorts. "Let's see how '24/7' this jerk is." He dials the number and waits. It rings three times before there is a cheery response on the other end of the line. "Hi, my boiler has packed in."

There is an almost awkward pause for a moment. "Right, would you like me to pop over today and have a look at it? See if we can get it fixed for you?" He's got a thick Southern accent, and Cas kinda likes it. His voice is friendly and warm, even through the phone. Probably some trick to butter you up before he hands over the bill.

"If you wouldn't mind. I've only just moved in. Place is a bit of a tip, I do warn you," He's lying; his place is immaculately tidy, and everything is packed away, a product of his over active OCD, he just always worries that people are going to judge him. He will give the place a quick once over before the plumber arrives.

"That's not a problem." Replies Happy Winchester. "I'm sure I've seen worse."

Cas nods, then pulls a face, feeling stupid because the other man can't see the gesture.

"I can be over there for about lunch time. Say half twelve. I can grab something to eat before I arrive."

Cas blinks at the overload of information. "Sure. Thanks. See you then." He supplies his address to the plumber, then hangs up. Time to clean like a full on weirdo.

Cas barely finishes by ten to twelve, and he sets himself up a quick lunch, sure to wash everything and put it all away before the plumber arrives.

Then he starts to worry about what to do. Does he sit casually and watch telly? Or should he at least try to make conversation? He can always pretend he has unpacking or something to do, and make the excuse and run off before the plumber starts trying to get him in to some kind of one sided, awkward conversation. Yes. That will do.

12.30 comes too soon, and Cas has already dashed upstairs to put on a black shirt and some tidy slacks so he doesn't look like a total tramp. He's left the top two buttons open – casual but not whorish – and he's wearing black socks and a pair of shoes that can almost pass for slippers.

The ding dong! Of the bell frightens the life out of Cas, and he thanks his lucky stars that no one was there to see him jump out of his skin and look stupid, as he seems to specialize doing.

Cas opens the door and forces what he hopes looks more like a friendly smile and less like a forced-gosh-I-wish-you-weren't-here smile. "Come in."

Okay, he thinks he has gone gay. The man standing the other side of the door is the single most attractive person he has ever seen. He's got the dark skin of a country boy, glittering green eyes, teeth a movie star would be jealous of, and lips sent down from Heaven. The smile relaxes in to a genuine pleased-to-see-you smile and he opens the door wide enough to allow the plumber to step in.

Winchester holds out his hand. "Dean."

"Cas." He shakes hands, then heads to the boiler. "Here's the stupid thing." He thinks he hears Dean chuckle, but he can't be sure.

Dean fiddles with the boiler for a while, trying everything Cas has already tried, then he takes off the front panel and starts looking professional.

Cas watches for a while, but then is horrified when he realizes. "Would you like a drink?"

"A coffee would be great, please. Black, one sugar. Thanks."

Cas makes them a coffee each and comes back to the scene of mayhem.

"Well I think I've found our problem." Dean points at the boiler and begins to ramble on, but he would be as well speaking in double Dutch.

Cas picks up the words 'valve' and 'needs to be replaced' and nods and hums at the appropriate junctures. He has no idea what Dean is on about, but he agrees with him.

"You watching the game tonight?"

"Game?"

Dean nods. "Not a baseball fan, huh?"

"I like baseball, I just don't really... You know."

Dean smiles, and Cas finds that he likes his smile. He wants to see it more. And that makes him feel really, really gay.

"I don't have sports channels anyway."

"I see." Dean seems tense for a moment, and he looks back to the boiler. "You new around here?"

Cas nods.

"I thought you sounded a bit out of townish."

Whatever that was supposed to mean, Cas played it safe and nods again.

"Well I'm on call 24/7," He points to the motif sewn on to his overall suit and grins proudly. "So if you need anything." He indicates the boiler. "Boilers fixed, washing machines. A drinking buddy."

Cas laughs at this. "I don't really drink."

"You should." Dean answers. "It's fun."

Cas shakes his head. "I'm too old for all that malarkey."

It's Dean's turn to laugh. "Old? What are you, thirty?"

"Next month, yes. How did you guess?"

"Must be counting the wrinkles."

Cas gapes at the other man, but it turns in to a laugh as Dean starts laughing and shoves him playfully.

"I'm only joking, Cas." He swipes his coffee from the side and takes a sip. "Lovely coffee, thank you." He sips again. "Seriously, though. I've only been here a little while myself. My brother is living in California, going to law school, and my Uncle is in South Dakota. So other than my annoying co tenant, I don't really know anyone around here."

Cas sips his coffee. It's easier than talking. There again, he'll be classed as rude if he doesn't. And that might lead to having to wait until next week to get someone out again to fix his boiler. By which time, his skin and hair will be tearing themselves off and crawling to the neighbors' house for a bath. "Well, I have your number."

Dean grins again. "You do." He finishes his coffee, rinses the mug, then claps his hands together. "Right, I will order the valve today, and I should have it by Monday lunch timeish. Will you be home?"

"I'll be at work, but I get back about 6."

"6.30 any good then?"

Cas is slightly taken aback by the plumber's eagerness. "Um, sure, if you're sure?"

Dean nods. "You don't want to be without a boiler any longer than necessary."

"You're telling me."

"I'd come back sooner, but I haven't got the part, and they won't deliver on a Sunday." He looks genuinely annoyed.

"It's fine. The company I work for have showers, so I will probably shower there on Monday at lunch time."

Dean looks away from Cas when their eyes meet, and he looks to the floor. "That's lucky."

"Yeah." Cas decides it's time to take conversation to the door and begins the goodbyes. It's getting too awkward for his liking.

"The place isn't a tip, by the way." Dean comments as he opens the door. "You're just a fuss pot." He says it fondly and smiles again.

"I can never get a place clean and tidy enough."

"OCD." Dean states. He nods, as if OCD is a personal enemy of his own. "I get it."

Cas narrows his eyes. It feels like the plumber is hanging on for some reason. "Thank you, for coming out."

Dean smiles again. "You're more than welcome. I will see you on Monday, and we'll get the 'stupid thing' up and running for you."

Cas flushes at Dean's use of his own term from earlier on, and he looks away. "Sorry. It just annoyed me. I've only just moved in."

Dean nods. "When I first moved in to my apartment, the front door fell off."

Cas laughed again. "No way?"  
"Way. I opened the door and it cracked me one in the shins. I was raving. Took the landlord damn near a week to sort it." Again back to not missing having a landlord. "Gabe and I took it in turns to sleep in the living room in case anyone walked in."

Cas whistles. "I'm not surprised. I don't miss landlords."

Dean chuckles. "I wish I could afford to buy, but with Sammy's school fees and all that, I just can't manage it."

Cas felt a swell of admiration for the plumber and he put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "That's really kind of you,"

Den shrugs. "He's my little brother. Our parents aren't around to pay for him, so someone's gotta."

"I'm sorry."

Dean waves his hands. "They died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry." Cas repeats.

Dean smiles gently at Cas. "Thanks."

Cas nods.

There is an epic pause and awkward moment, where Cas removes his hand, and they both look at one another, not quite sure of what to do, then Dean breaks it. "Monday."

"Monday." Cas reiterates.

They exchange good byes, then Cas retreats back in to his house. He decides now is a good time to watch the wildlife documentaries he has recorded, and try to forget about the handsome plumber, and his almost over friendliness.

Funny he ends up watching the game.

**So there's chapter one. Any good? Rubbish? Input? I have a pretty good idea where this is going, but it looks like it might be a bit longer than I originally thought! See how it goes, I spose (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Back for more (: I can't see anything too kinky happening just yet. Got a bit of a way to go yet, but it will happen! Not sure whether to go full on with this, or attempt to keep it a bit more tame? Am I capable of not churning out filth? Golly, that's the million dollar question...**

Sunday for Cas wound up being more than a little frustrating. The cooker appeared to take an obscene amount of time to cook the small steak he had decided on and roast the vegetables, so it was gone 9 o clock by the time he sat down to his meal. The news had been prattling on about shit weather on its way and how much of a mess the government had managed to make of the country. There was a story circulating that there may have been a child abduction, and that's enough to put anyone in a bad mood. To think there are people out there who would hurt a child in any way made Cas feel sick.

Dinner was finished, and everything was washed, dried and put back in its place by ten thirty, and Cas decided it was time to face the music and attempt a wash.

After boiling the kettle a dozen times, he adds some cold water and decides there is enough water to warrant a shallow bath. He washes his hair whilst hanging over the side of the bath, then hops in and does the best he can at washing the rest of himself. He doesn't want to use too much body wash, because he won't be able to rinse it off properly, and then he'll get itchy. So soaping up the vital areas is done, then he hops back out the bath and wraps the towel around himself. He uses a smaller towel to scrub his hair dry, and hangs it over the heated towel rail to hopefully dry out. His washing machine uses hot water, so he can't use it until the boiler is fixed. Thankfully the towel rail is electric. So that will have to serve as the only heater in the entire house until tomorrow night. Thank goodness for the electric blanket. That is all Cas can think as he snuggles in to his bed, thinking that perhaps if he wore clothes to bed, he might find himself a little warmer, but why bother when you can sleep in your birthday suit and have a nice electric blanket to warm up the bed for you?

The stress from the boiler, and now the cooker threatening bad things makes Cas' sleep restless and fitful, and he goes to work in a foul mood the next day. He takes it out on Gina at reception, then chooses to run up the stairs as opposed to taking the elevator up to his office on the fourth floor. With his luck of late, the elevator would choose to stop between two floors and trap him in. That is a risk he isn't willing to take.

He finishes off the book from last Friday and catches up on other paperwork until lunch time. His cellphone rings whilst he's in the diner across the road, and he answers it in the same gruff, clipped tone he's been using all day. "Novak."

"Hey, Cas, it's Dean."

Cas' mood lightens a little at the friendly voice on the other end of the line and he clears his throat. He should probably apologize for being rude, but maybe Dean didn't notice. "Hey, Dean. Everything still okay for tonight?"

"Yeah, sure, I just, uh, I need to make it a bit later, is that okay?"

Cas swallows his mouthful of chicken cesar salad and replies. "Sure. What time?"

"Probably about eight or so. I'm really sorry, man, I'm not messing you about. It's just that Ben has a parent teacher evening at school, and Lisa's asked me to drive her."

For some reason, this stings. Cas bites the inside of his lip. "Sure. That's no problem, Dean. Kids come first,"

"I'm really sorry. Lisa's car broke down this morning, and it's in the garage, so," He leaves the sentence hanging, but Cas can still hear the 'I didn't really have a choice,' finishing it.

"Really, it's not a problem. You can make it tomorrow if you like? Or whenever?"

"No, no. Eight is absolutely fine. I can't make you wait another day."

"Well if you're sure. I really don't mind if you come tomorrow." He swallows down the last of his coffee and dabs his lips with tissue. "Like I said. There are showers at work."

"If tonight is okay for you, it's okay for me."

Cas sighs. "It's fine for me. I just don't want you going out of your way."

"It's no problem. Eight o clock."

"Eight o clock." Cas echoes. The call ends, and Cas slumps. He doesn't even know why he's disappointed that Dean has a wife and a kid. Of course he does. Anyone as good looking as that is going to be married and with spawn.

The rest of Cas' day is uneventful, and he manages to get all he needs to done and a little extra. His boss is out for the day, so he has time to catch up with his own work instead of running stupid, time consuming errands then getting moaned at for having his work in late. Perhaps if he didn't spend half the day getting coffee or running files downstairs.

Cas cooks a simple meal of steamed vegetables and finishes the last of last night's pre cooked steak for dinner, then scoops himself a large portion of ice cream to wash it down. He's watching 28 Days Later, because his brother lent it to him on DVD, and as per usual, there is nothing to watch on telly. Cas could probably say he had a bit of a crush on Cillian Murphy in this. Just something about the voice, the crazy, the wetness, the blood. It just kind of is a bit hot.

After watching a movie about zombies, when the door bell sounds, Cas once again nearly falls out of his seat. He fights the urge to answer the door with a shovel or shotgun in hand, ready to bash in or blow off the head of whatever undead being is lurking on the other side of the door. He decides he needs to watch something a bit more pleasant before he goes to bed.

Dean is grinning when Cas opens the door, and it makes Cas smile. "How's your day been, Cas?" He speaks as if they've known each other for years. He is dressed in a white shirt and smart black jeans, which hug his ass in all the right ways, and shows off a surprisingly appealing pair of bowed legs.

Cas covers up his blatant eyeing up of Dean when he catches him by blurting out something stupid about him looking smart, and expecting him to turn up in his overalls. Smooth.

"I came straight from dropping off Lisa and Ben."

Cas smiles tightly. "Ah. How did it go?"

"Really well." Dean takes the front off the boiler and starts poking at it. He cuts himself off. "Could we have the power off, please?"

Cas nods and flicks off the switches for the main power.

Dean has come equipped. He slips on a headband with a built in flashlight and gets to work removing the faulty valve. "Yeah, Ben's doing really well. He's on target to pass everything with As and Bs."

"That's fantastic." Cas comments. "You must be proud."

"Definitely." Dean faffs a bit more, and Cas allows himself to enjoy the sight of the plumber's arms flexing, showing off a decent amount of muscle. Okay. He is definitely going gay. Even if it were just for Dean. And Cillian.

"Are you watching 28 Days Later?"

"Yeah." Cas answers. He looks to Dean, but Dean is too wrapped up in his work to look back.

"I love that movie." Dean chuckles. "I won't lie to you, I'd probably do Jim." He laughs more, as if he's cracked a really good joke.

Cas gulps. Had he said something out loud? "I don't know what you mean."

"The Irish guy." Dean grunts a little with effort, but he seems to be making progress. "He's hot."

"Oh." Cas says. "_Oh_."

There is an awkward pause, but Dean saves the moment by laughing. "Come _on_." Dean glances over at Cas "It's a character thing. They make him hot. The big hero, rescuing the damsels in distress."

Cas nods awkwardly. "What does your wife say to that?"

"My _what_?" Dean stops what he is doing and looks at Cas.

Cas suddenly feels like he's said the wrong thing. "Sorry... I thought Lisa..."

"Lisa?" Dean laughs again, personal joke, clearly. "Man, she and I had a thing way back, like _way_ back, in high school, but no. We're just really good friends."  
"Is Ben your son then?"

"No, no." Dean turns back to his work. "Lisa had a one night stand with some biker guy she met in a bar and 'Hello Ben'."

Cas lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"You haven't offended me, Cas. Far from it. It's a safe assumption." He plucks something out of the boiler, presumably the old valve, then sets about beginning to put the new one in. "Lisa and I have always been close. She's part of the reason I moved here."

Cas stays silent.

"She was with this guy, another biker kind of guy. They were together two or three years, and he started getting a bit rough with her. She never told me anything, not to start with, but I could tell something wasn't right. It was a lucky break when he got knocked off his bike that's for sure." Dean snickers under his breath. "He's doing time for DUI now. She's got a restraining order against him. I'm just round the corner, so if anything kicks off." He again leaves the sentence unfinished.

"That's really kind of you again, Dean." Cas notes. He smiles back at the plumber, then offers him a coffee.

Dean finishes his work before he has his coffee, roaming around the entire house, checking all the heaters and hot taps, and Cas brings him in to the living room to sit on the couch and enjoy it.

The conversation flows smoothly for a while; they even get in to a talk about the game last night. It turns out that, being a Dallas Cowboys supporter, Dean was more than happy with their win.

It's about an hour, in the end that Dean stays there, and it's Castiel's stifled yawn that turns his attention to the time. "Man," Dean sits forward on the couch and presses his fists in to his back. He arches his back and flexes left, and then right, then he stretches his arms above his head. Cas follows every movement. Dean had whipped off his button down shirt about fifteen minutes in to their conversation, complaining about being hot, and all he is wearing underneath is a white sleeveless vest top. It shows his shoulders and arms in the most flattering of ways, and makes his chest a tempting expanse of concealed flesh. Cas swallows as his eyes become level with Dean's ass. He has stood up, and is now stifling his own yawn, trying to speak through it, but Cas can make no sense of it. Dean settles for making yawn sound effects then makes a frustrated noise as he finishes. "Sorry. I'd better get going. Gabe will be wondering where I am." He heads to the kitchen, where he has left his toolbox, and he lifts the toolbox, turning back to Cas. "Actually... I dread to think what Gabe will be doing when I get back." His face takes on a glazed over, mildly horrified look, and Cas thinks he may be having a flashback.

"Dean..."

Dean's focus returns to Cas. "Yeah. Sorry." He smiles. "I, uh..." He turns on his heel and stalks off to the front door, stopping just short of walking straight out. He faces Cas and smiles at him again.

Cas smiles in return. He nods. "Okay, thanks again. You have the check?"

Dean pats his jeans pocket, and Cas' eyes follow the movement.

"Yep." Dean steps backwards, out in to the cool night time air and pulls out a small card. "Call me if you need anything. At all."

Cas nods. "Okay, sure. I will."

"See you round, Cas." It sounds like a threat. Maybe a promise. It's hard to tell. It's almost unsettling, but mainly, it's really, really appealing.

"See you round, Dean."

**So far, so not filthy (: I'm doing well! Thank you if you're still with me!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A little more. This will only be 4 maybe 5 chapters. Hope you're enjoying it (:**

**And I'm making Dean a sort of a general electrician/Mr Fix It to suit my needs in this story. I had two guys come out to my place to sort out my boiler and gas cooker, and a different bloke out to fix my washing machine (which after 9 weeks STILL isn't done!) but Dean's clever and he can do it all :p**

Those smooth hands are fisting in his hair, that low gruff voice is whispering in his ear. He can't pick out words, but he's pretty sure it's dirty talk. His groin is hot and aching and so desperate to be touched. He bucks his hips forward, but he can't get close enough. His own hands are grasping at the dark blue overalls, and trying to pull the other man closer. He just wants some contact.

"Holy crap." Castiel rubs his eyes and blinks in to the waking world. The smoke alarm is going off. His toast is burnt. The same can't be said for the small chicken he is attempting to roast in the oven. Blasted thing looks still raw. The temperature is turned up all the way, it's been in there for an hour and a half, and it looks as raw as the day it was slaughtered. The promised lamb of a couple weeks previous had wound up being taken to the lovely old couple next door as they'd invited him over for a 'Welcome Meal'. He'd offered the lamb as subject for dinner, and had taken over a bottle of elderflower cordial. Castiel thumps the oven, hoping that perhaps the appliance will take it personally and decide to work. Two new and less burnt slices of toast and another forty minutes later, and there's still no sign of improvement. He hadn't been told about this when he'd viewed the house. It was doubtful the realtor knew, but even if he had, he was likely to keep it under wraps. Their only interest is selling houses and making money. So what if the poor sod who buys the house then has to keep dishing out on faulty appliances? Castiel removes the chicken from the oven and chucks it in the bin in a mild rage. He spends a while mentally cursing the agency and his rotten luck, but given that it is something else that needs to be fixed, it has given him an excuse to finally call Dean.

It's been two weeks since Dean fixed his boiler, and he hasn't heard from him. He won't lie and say he isn't a little disappointed, but he reasons that Dean doesn't really have a need to call him. For starters he isn't pining after Cas like some lovesick puppy, and for seconds, he was just being friendly. He's a single, lonely guy, looking for companionship. As is Cas.

Still, his thumb hovers for a few moments over the 'Call' button on his phone before he presses it.

Dean answers quickly.

There is a stilted conversation, an awkward exchange of pleasantries before Cas gets to the point. "My oven appears to be on the fritz."

"_How's that?_"

Cas shrugs, but Dean can't see it. He verbalizes the gesture. "Dunno. It won't heat up properly."

Dean hums and mutters for a moment. "_Are you home now?_"

"It's not that urgent, Dean."

"_It's fine, really. I'm free anyway._"

Cas ponders for a moment. "Well only if it isn't any hassle."

"_I'll be with you in twenty minutes_." Dean cuts off the conversation there.

Cas paces for a few moments before turning to his usual comfort of cleaning like a crazed lunatic before his company arrives.

Dean arrives dressed in an AC/DC shirt, jeans and heavy work boots. Cas admires the scenery for a brief moment when he opens the door. Two minutes later, Dean is hunkered by the cooker, his head poked a little further in to it than Cas is strictly comfortable with.

"Would you like coffee?"

"Only if you're having one."

Cas doesn't answer, but he moves to set up the coffee machine. _Black, one sugar. _He memorizes.

"Eureka."

_Did he really just say that?_ Cas stares at the back of the plumber-come-electrician's head for a moment, watches as he backs out of the cooker and turns on his haunches to face Cas. "I know what the problem is." He pulls himself to his feet and rinses his hands under the now warm water briefly. Cas hands him a hand towel. "There is a valve." He begins. Cas takes the towel back, folds it and returns it to its rightful place. "Thanks." Dean closes the cooker door, then continues. "Again, which is supposed to open once the cooker gets to a certain temperature, to allow more gas to come through to let the cooker get hotter. That's knackered."  
"Oh." It's all Cas can think to say.

"So, same story. I'll need to order a new part, and I can come fix it once it arrives."

Cas holds out the coffee cup. "Coffee's ready." He kind of doesn't want Dean to go. There again, with his wild little dream from earlier on still fresh in his mind, perhaps this will all wind up being too awkward for Cas to handle.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean smiles at Cas, but it isn't long before Cas blushes and turns away.

A slightly awkward silence stretches out between them as they drink their coffees. Cas is the first to break it. "Thanks for coming out on such short notice."

Dean smiles. "It's fine. I had nothing else on." He again sounds like he hasn't quite finished what he wants to say, but Cas lets that slip.

"How are Ben and Lisa?"

Dean smiles fondly at the mention and leans back against the counter. "They're good, thanks. Ben's been accepted on to the baseball team,"  
Cas grins, perhaps a little awkwardly. He's never been around kids; he himself was an only child, and his parents hadn't come from large families. He knew he had cousins, but he'd never met any of them. His last experience of children has pretty much been when he had been in school. "That's great."

"Yeah." Dean rinses his cup again and places it down to dry. He turned to Cas, ow considerably closer to him than before. "I should take you to a game."  
Cas balks. "I'm sorry?"

Dean grins. "Have you ever been to one?"

"My Father dragged me along once when I was small, but I created, so he didn't take me again."

Dean laughs at the story and lays a hand on Cas' shoulder. Cas hopes he didn't feel the shudder go through his body at the contact. "You haven't lived."

"I can't expect you to-"

Dean raises his hands, cutting Cas off mid speech. "Think of it as a friendly gesture. A welcome gift. I think with the bad luck you've been having, you need a break. Something to look forward to. Maybe we could have a couple of drinks after, and watch 28 Days Later?"

"I don't drink. Really. I mean..."

Dean removes his hand. "I will convert you."

Cas blinks.

Dean winks. "Dallas Cowboys."

Cas can see this is an argument he is not going to win. He sighs. "I'll think about it."

Dean grins again, looking more like a gleeful child than a full grown man. A full grown man with an incredibly athletic, muscular body. The sexiest bowed legs in the history of man.

_Oh gosh. Stop staring at his legs._

Cas grins. "So..."

"So." Dean echoes, and suddenly, they are surrounded by a painfully uncomfortable atmosphere. Dean starts towards the door. "I'll call you when the part arrives."

Castiel nods. "Thanks."

After the most awkward farewell, Dean had slithered back to his car, pausing once inside it to smile and wave at Cas.

After that, Cas slams his front door shut and leans against it, letting out a deep breath. He mentally slaps himself round the face for acting like such an awkward, geekoid freak. For some reason he cannot yet fathom, Cas finds himself not wanting to make a tit of himself in front of Dean, but for other reasons also unknown, he seems to be specializing in doing just that. He rubs his forehead in frustration as he returns to the couch to mope and watch the news to wind himself up before he drags himself up to bed. He has the world's quickest shower; barely even bothering to soap himself up, more just showering out of habit. He crawls in to his bed, freshly showered and dressed in nothing, and snuggles in to the warmth of the electric blanket. His phone buzzes. He swears at it, then picks it up to look at the message.

_Night night, Cas :) _

It's from Dean. Cas stares at his phone for a while, blinking stupidly before he finally manages to type out a reply.

_Goodnight Dean_

Then he tortures himself until he falls asleep over it.

A week passes until he hears from Dean again, and Dean is extremely apologetic. More so than Cas can really cope with.

"DeanDeanDean." Cas holds up his free hand, despite the fact Dean can't see it. "Dean," He says again. "It's fine, really."

"I'm sorry. It's the jerk off company that supply my parts. I would have had it sooner if I didn't have to wait for them to get their asses in to gear."

"I've been fine. Probably put on a few pounds from living off take aways, but really. It's fine."

"I can be there tonight." Dean offers.

"Sure. I get off at 5.30 tonight, so I should be home and ready by about 6.30."

Dean breathes a sigh of relief at the other end of the phone. "Okay. Shall I say 7? Give you a bit extra time?"

"7 is fine, Dean." Cas smiles to himself as he jots down a few notes on to a scrap of paper.

"Okay. I'll see you then,"

"See you." Cas goes to call off, but he hears Dean's voice at the other end of the phone.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, Cas." He sounds sincere.

Cas blinks stupidly. "Uh, you too, Dean." The lines goes dead, and Cas stares at the phone for a few moments. He gets the butterflies in his tummy sensation, and it refuses to go away for the rest of the day.

**So gonna cut it short there, but hopefully, I can work a bit of fluff in to the next one (:**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so sorry with my slow delivery with this one! I thought I'd be done quickly, but shockkkkk Writers Block had to make an appearance! I promise not to start posting things until I have finished them in future (:**

**On with the story :D**

Cas manages to squeeze in a quick shower – with now nice, hot water – and a meat feast pizza before Dean arrives.

Dean arrives at 7 o clock, on the dot. Well, one thing is for sure; the man is punctual. Cas briefly wonders if there is somewhere online or something he can put in a good word for Dean, and decides he'll ask him if he has a website later.

"Come in," Cas opens the door and gestures with his hand. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Please," Dean is carrying his usual took bag, but he has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder which Cas sincerely hopes doesn't contain a bomb. He eyes it suspiciously as Dean sets it down near the sink. It doesn't take long for Dean to get to work, and once he has started, he is like a machine. He does everything steadily and methodically, but with an awareness that he is paid by the hour, and he manages to have the job done – after dismantling the cooker and spreading its innards across Cas' kitchen, then putting it back together again.

"Another coffee?" Cas offers, a little stiffly as they work out money, and Cas is a little suspicious that the bill isn't as high as he had expected.

"Well," Dean scoops up the duffel bag from the counter and cradles it like a newborn baby, "I brought along a few cans if you'd rather?"

Cas looks at the duffel bag as if he is still concerned something bit with sharp teeth may jump out of it, but he shrugs. "Why not? It's Friday."

Dean's face splits in to an enormous grin and he walks to the refrigerator, pausing as he goes to yank it open, and turns to Cas. "Should I put some in here for after?"

Cas nods. "Sure, go ahead." He fetches glasses out of the cupboard, then winces a little, wondering if Dean was planning to be a normal man and drinking it from the cans.

If he was planning that, he says nothing as he sits down on the couch next to Cas and pours the beers in to the glasses, handing one to Cas and keeping one to himself. "You got 28 Days Later then?" Dean grins at Cas and Cas looks back, unsure as to whether he is being serious.

"It's probably still in the player. I don't use it all that often."

Dean reaches forward and grabs the TV remote and the DVD player remote, and starts pressing buttons. He gets the movie on and settles back in to the couch. "Pity we don't have any popcorn."

"I have popcorn."

Dean turns to Cas, and another smile creeps over his face.

An hour and a half later, and Cas has dozed off, and Dean is still watching the movie, apparently totally at ease with Cas' head laying on his shoulder.

A sudden, loud sound startles Cas back in to the world of consciousness, and he sits bolt upright, wiping at his face, panicking in case he has managed to drool. "I hope I didn't snore."

Dean cracks up.

Cas doesn't see what is so funny. He stares at Dean, watching as the plumber folds in half, laughing so hard he begins to cough quite violently. Cas goes to get him a glass of water and offers it to him.

"Thanks, man." Dean wipes his eyes and takes a swig from the glass of water.

Cas flumps back down on to the couch and stretches. "I'm ready for bed already,"

Dean looks at him, and Cas is a little nervous about the look in his eyes. He imagines the way a lion looks at its prey just before it leaps on it and rips its throat out.

He swallows audibly. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"I didn't mind, Cas," Dean replies, but there is something more to his words, and he sounds like he is holding back. He doesn't look away from Cas, even when they've stopped speaking, and he has turned himself now so that he is facing Cas, one leg folded underneath him.

"I hope I didn't drool."

Dean laughs quietly. "You didn't drool, Cas, and you didn't snore."

Cas feels heat rising up the back of his neck, and he rubs it awkwardly. He knows he should probably move; stand up, run off, anything, but he is rooted to the spot. He is getting lost in those green eyes, and he doesn't even know how or when it happens, but somehow, Dean's lips are on his.

It's not much at first; hesitant at best. Just a little light contact.

Cas moans involuntarily as Dean's tongue crosses the seam of his lips, and Dean's hand comes up to cup his face. His other hand lays on Cas' thigh and remains planted there just for now.

Cas gives in easily to Dean's requests, and he allows Dean's tongue full access to his mouth in no time. As Dean grows in confidence, he brings himself up on to both of his knees, above Cas and he continues kissing him, deeper. Dean's hand drops to Cas' shirt and fumbles with the buttons, resorting to simply ripping the front of the shirt when he is unable to undo them with one hand. The other hand is too busy gripping Cas' hair. He moves himself again so he is kneeling either side of Cas' legs, and his hand roams over Cas' warm, sun kissed skin.

Cas moans at the contact as Dean's fingers trace his nipple, and Dean pulls back to smile.

"Fuck, Cas." Dean kisses Cas again, until they have to pull apart for oxygen. "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you."

"Dean-" Cas is cut short by a frantic knocking on the front door. "Oh for fucks sakes." He looks to Dean. "Excuse me."

"Castiel?" A delicate little old lady voice floats through to the two men as Cas grabs the shirt Dean had shed whilst working on the cooker and pulls it over his head. "Just a moment!" He calls sweetly. He answers the door, intentionally running his hand through his hair to make an excuse for his bed hair situation. "Hi," He smiles at his elderly neighbor.

"Have you seen my cat, Castiel?" The little old dear looks terribly worried.

"I haven't," He thinks bitterly to himself that it's likely the little fleabag is crapping in his garden and digging up his geraniums, but he looks concerned and nods his head, "I will have a look for him right away." He balks; now is the moment he should invite her in for a cup of tea; the old biddy is in her pajamas and dressing gown and slippers, after all, but he has a heart stopping moment, where he fears Dean might be sprawled on the couch naked and waiting for him, so he holds one finger up. "Just a moment, Mrs. Carpenter." He dashes to the couch, where he is glad to see Dean is standing, adjusting his clothes and looking like he is preparing to go. The preparing to go part disappoints Cas, but now isn't the time to throw a tantrum. He smiles at Dean and mouths 'Sorry.' and Dean smiles back and flaps his hand. He wanders in to the kitchen and collects together his belongings.

Cas rushes back to the front door. "Please, come on in. Sorry, I have someone working on my cooker; I wanted to make sure it was safe for you to come in."  
"Oh my dear, is it still not fixed?"

"It is now, thank goodness," Cas answers, smiling and holding the door open for Mrs. Carpenter to come in.

With perfect timing, Dean appears, luggage in tow, and smiles broadly at Mrs. Carpenter.

"Oh, hello, dear," Mrs. Carpenter beams up at Dean, clearly appreciating what she is seeing. "Castiel was just telling me all about you."

Dean continues to dazzle her with his smile. "All good I hope?"

"Why, yes, of course. Dear Castiel doesn't have a bad word to say about anyone."

Cas feels his cheeks flush and he trades a look with Dean, which conveys an apology of sorts. "Mrs. Carpenter has lost her cat."

"Oh no," Dean looks concerned, and he places a gentle hand on the old lady's elbow. "Castiel and I can go look for you if you like?"  
"Oh, would you be so kind?"

"Of course," Dean sets down his bags and beckons Cas over. "Start with the garden?"

Cas nods. "Please, take a seat Mrs. Carpenter. We won't be long."

And long they aren't. The little shit is, exactly as Cas had expected, using his flower beds as a toilet, and has the cheek to rush up to Cas and wrap himself around his legs, purring away merrily. "You little shit," Cas growls as he picks the cat up. "One day, I will put the sprinklers on," He promises.

Dean laughs at him.

Cas fusses the cat as he walks back in to his house, and he smiles at Mrs Carpenter. "He was playing on my flower beds." He works hard to keep the venom out of his voice. "Let me walk you both back home. Mr. Carpenter must be worried sick."

Dean races ahead and picks up his bits and bobs and opens the front door. He leaves it open for the other two, and closes it behind them. "I'm going to shoot off."

Cas nods, and he feels his heart sink. "Sure, thanks for today."

"You've got my number." Dean says. There is hidden meaning behind his words, and his eyes flash wickedly as he smiles.

Cas smiles back at him. "Okay, thank you. Take care."

"You too," Dean's eyes soften as he looks at Mrs. Carpenter. "And you, Mrs. Carpenter."

She waves at him and blushes. "Goodbye, Dean." She doesn't miss a thing as he swaggers to his van and jumps in. "What a lovely young man." She speculates. She turns on the heel of her slippers and starts up towards her own house. "Is he your boyfriend, Castiel?"

Cas nearly chokes on his own tongue. "Uh, no, Mrs. Carpenter. He's just my plumber. And electrician."

She smiles at him knowingly as she opens her front door. "Okay, my dear." She takes the cat from Cas' arms and pets him, then sets him down on the floor behind her. She turns back, still smiling. "It's a pity, you know. He's a keeper." She winks at Cas, and Cas feels his entire face practically catch fire.

"Okay, goodnight, Mrs. Carpenter. I'm glad we found your cat."

"Me too, thank you. Both of you. Goodnight Castiel."

Well. Wasn't that just the mother of all cock blocks?

**I'm sorry people. I don't know why I did it. It just happened! These characters are doing what they want! This was only meant to be three chapters long! I can see one more. That'll probably be it. Bear with me. Reviews are love, people (: I will try my hardest to get the last chapter up ASAP!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This should be it! The laaaaast chapter! Yaay! Then I can concentrate on my next secret Destiel mission :p**

**I've taken EvilSquirrel1's advice with the cat's name by the way :p And you can thank halle Mcready for the existence of this little fic!**

**Thank you all for your patience in waiting, I thought I'd've had it done before now, sorry ):**

**Here is what you've all been waiting for! :D**

"Oh for FUCKS SAKES!" Cas dashes up the stairs to grab an armful of towels and rushes them back down in to the kitchen. He drops them in the enormous puddle appearing in front of his washing machine. He sets about mopping up as much of the water as he can, stopping only to turn the washing machine off at the wall. "Fucking bastard washing machine!" He kicks it for good measure, and whips out his phone. He scrolls down to Dean's number and calls him.

Dean answers immediately. "Cas, hey,"

"Dean, my fucking washing machine is broken now." He can't keep the bite out of his voice. "I turned the bastard thing on and it spewed water out the front. Not the door, the bit up at the top. By all the dials and buttons and things."

Dean chuckles on the other end of the phone and Cas wants to punch him. "Okay Cas, I can be there at two."  
Cas looks at the kitchen clock. Midday. He wants to swear at Dean, but instead, he takes a cleansing breath. "Okay. Okay, that will be great, thank you."

"It's not a problem. I think I might know what the problem is, but I had better have a look at it to make sure. I'll see you in a couple hours."

"See you." Cas calls off and decides to go and fume elsewhere until Dean arrives.

It is the longest couple of hours Cas has known yet. The combination of the wait to see Dean and the anticipation of yet another bill, has Cas on edge. He drinks three coffees in the time he spends waiting for Dean, and it does nothing to soothe his anxiety.

Dean arrives bang on two o clock, and he swoops straight in to the kitchen and pulls the washing machine out. "I am pretty sure I know what is going on." He says as he unscrews the top and wiggles it off. "And if that's the case, I have a part back at mine, which I can nip and get now, and I should be back with you within the hour, and I can get it fixed here and now."

Cas flicks on the coffee maker, not even bothering to ask Dean if he'd like one. "I don't know if my luck would hold out like that."

"Ah ha!" Dean exclaims, tugging at something that looks suspiciously like the water tank in a car.

"Good ah ha, or bad ah ha?" Cas asks as he gets out coffee cups.

"Good ah ha, Cas. It is the soap dispenser. I have one that will fit at mine. I'll be back with you as soon as I can."

"Do you want a coffee?"

"When I get back, please." And the man is gone.

True to his word, he is back fifty five minutes later, equipped with a strange box with a load of tubes coming off it. It looks like some kind of weird torture device or maybe even a bizarre sex toy. Either way, Dean handles it with precision as he fits it in place of the old, broken soap dispenser, then hooks the washing machine back up and plays around with it for a while.

Cas' clothes, which got stuck in the machine when it packed up, are still in there.

"Where's your detergent, Cas?"

Cas hands Dean the detergent and watches as he pours a generous amount in to the dispensing tray and closes it again.

"Fixed." Dean beams from ear to ear as he looks at Cas, and Cas can't help but smile back.

"You are my night in shining armor, Dean." Cas' smile spreads.

In one swift moment, Dean has Cas pushed against the refrigerator, and his lips are on Cas' neck.

Cas lets out a surprised whimper, but fails to follow through with any protest as Dean's lips move to press against his own.

"Oh fuck," Dean breathes against Cas' lips, and he continues to pepper kisses over his jawline. "I've been thinking about you all night."

Cas eyes Dean warily as the taller man pulls away from him. "What?"

Dean's eyes burn in to Cas'. "I've been going crazy. Wanting to get back to you."

"Dean, I-" Cas' words are cut off as Dean's lips find his again, in a hot, dirty kiss.

"Shut up, Cas." Dean mumbles in to the kiss, and his hands find their way to the top of Cas' jeans. He pins Cas to the refrigerator with his hips and one hand grabs a hold of Cas' hair. The other hand runs around the waistband of Cas' jeans, the touch making Cas' stomach flip. Dean bites Cas' lip and pushes his hips in to Cas again.

The friction makes Cas moan. He feels like a horny teenager, his dick already picking up to the situation, and straining against the fabric of his pants. "Dean..." Cas flushes at his early show of appreciation, and he looks away, at anywhere but at Dean as the plumber-come-electrician glances down and smirks, obviously noticing the problem.

Dean answers by pushing hips against Cas again, and this time, Cas feels something press against his own thigh. Dean's eyes are heated and dark as he catches eye contact with Cas again, and he moves in to kiss Cas again.

Whatever resistance Cas had been about to put up disappears as Dean's lips find his sweet spot. His hands let go of the refrigerator and wind themselves in to Dean's hair. Dean unbuttons Cas' jeans and slips his hands down the front in one fell move.

Cas cries out at the contact. "Dean!"

Dean moans in to Cas' ear and pushes him in to another kiss. It is another swift movement when Cas feels himself being spun and walked backwards to the couch, the whole time attached by the lips to Dean. His jeans fall somewhere along the way and he trips over them and lands in an unceremonious heap on the couch. Dean takes advantage and crawls on to of Cas pushing him back until he is laying flat on the couch. Cas kicks off the jeans. No sense in having a handicap at this stage of the game. Dean sits briefly and pulls of his top, but it's barely a second when he crushes his lips back on to Cas' and grinds his hips in to the smaller man's.

Cas takes full advantage of the newly exposed skin, and his fingers dance over the muscles and his lips hone in on the sensitive skin of Dean's neck. Dean tugs at Cas' top and manages to pull it off, then moves on to getting rid of his own jeans.

Separated now by only boxers, the two men rut themselves against one another for a few more minutes, tongues mapping out the insides of each other's mouths. Cas breaks the kiss, but Dean allows him just a moment, nipping and biting at his lips, a low rumble coming from his chest. A stray hand finds its way to Cas' hip, and takes a hold of it. Cas bucks his hips up in to Dean's hand, and wraps a leg around Dean's ass. His hands dig in to Dean's back and he drags them down, definitely leaving marks, bringing them to rest on the dips just above the plumber's ass.

Dean's lips distract Cas, sucking on his neck, making his way down, marking his chest and his hipbones. A hand runs up the inside of Cas' thigh and slips under the leg of the boxers. Dean traces his fingers over Cas' balls and cup them gently as his teeth graze up the length of Cas' erection through the boxers.

Cas mewls and grabs on to the arm of the couch to keep himself steady. He tries to speak, but it comes out as an incoherent mumble-moan, and Dean smiles as he kisses his way up Cas' leg. Dean hooks the top of the boxers down and reveals the tip of Cas' cock. He wastes no time in flicking his tongue over the head and lapping up the beads of precome glistening there.

Cas cries out again. It's been a very, very long time since he's had attention down there from anyone other than his right hand, and Cas is just lucid enough to worry that this will be all over too soon. That worry becomes even more real as Dean wraps his lips around the end of his dick and slides the boxers further down, to reveal Cas' in all his glory. With one hand cupping and gently rolling Cas' balls, and his tongue now tracing out the length and girth of his manhood, Dean uses his other hand to begin small, sharp jerking motions to Cas' dick. Each one is rewarded with a whimper and Cas squirming beneath him. Cas' brain short circuits as Dean suddenly plunges his mouth around as much of his length as he can manage, and hums in satisfaction at yet another moan from Cas. Scrabbling frantically, Cas manages to take a hold of Dean's hair and, pausing for a few moments, his fingers wound tight in the plumber's short hair, relishing the feeling of his tongue flattened out against the underneath of his dick, and those soft lips smoothing up and down his shaft, the hand working in tandem to give him twice as much friction, he longs to fuck himself into Dean's mouth until he finds his end, but knowing that will take a matter of seconds, and he wants this to go on for longer, Cas pushes his butt back in to the couch as much as he can, pulling away from the heat of Dean's mouth, and he pulls on the back of the plumber's hair. Dean resists for a few agonizingly long moments before he pulls off Cas' dick with a pop, and looks up at him with wide, lust blown eyes and swollen, red lips. Cas nearly comes just at the sight of him. His mouth fails him again, and he tugs the larger man up on top of him and pulls him down in to a dominating kiss. Dean fights back, and uses his superior strength to pin Cas back in to the couch, his hands coming up from the private region to clasp on to Cas' wrists. Cas doesn't even try to fight back, and he gives up his dominance easily. He moans in to the kiss as he feels Dean's fingers between his legs again, and he throws his legs around the plumber, in the girliest way, and allows him easier access. Dean jabs his hips forward in a desperate bid to get himself some friction. His fingers are slicked up from assisting with the blow job, and the first one teases around Cas' hole and slips in with little resistance. Cas shudders as a second finger is pushed in, and Dean begins searching for that sweet spot. Cas fucks himself down on to Dean's fingers, hands again clasping on to the arm of the couch. He opens up easily for a third, and Dean breaks way from the kiss, panting.

"Fuck, Cas... Have you...?"

Cas thrusts down on to Dean's fingers again, and opens his eyes to smirk up at the younger man. "I have a toy box." He admits, and Dean growls in response.

"Oh, fuck. Cas..." Dean bites Cas' lip and closes his eyes. "I wanna see you one day." Dean twists himself around in the seat, kicking Cas' legs down from the couch, and he pushes Cas up on to his feet.

Cas barely manages to stand, his legs turned nearly to jelly from Dean's earlier ministrations.

"Touch yourself for me, Cas." Dean plants his hands either side of himself on the cushions and bites his lip as Cas drops his hand down to fist his own cock. He lets out another growl as Cas moves closer to Dean and kneels over the top of him, stroking his hand leisurely up and down his length. Cas puts his free hand in to his mouth, sucking noisily before reaching around behind him and pushing a finger inside. Dean's hand goes to his erection, and he begins jerking himself off at the sight of the wanton man in front of him. Cas slides off the couch and bends over the plumber's lap, grabbing on to the hard dick in front of him and not even hesitating to begin sucking the plumber off. Dean is actually louder than Cas, and Cas, somewhere in the back of his mind, hopes that the neighbors aren't out in their back gardens. "Fuck, Cas..." Dean fists his hand in to Cas' hair and pushes and pulls Cas' head in time with the smaller man's motions, and he thrusts himself in to Cas' mouth. All too soon, Cas removes his mouth from Dean's dick, and looks up at him, his eyes hungry and wild.

"Get up."

Cas obeys, and Dean pulls him down so he is straddling his lap, and Dean reaches up to kiss him. The plumber grabs Cas' ass and pulls him closer, kissing his hipbones again.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Cas whispers in to his ear, and Dean growls and bites his hip. Dean grabs his cock and holds it steady, pulling Cas down on to it.

Both men shudder and Cas bites on to his fist, stopping halfway. He has quite a lot of fun with his toys, but they don't match up to the size of Dean. He eases the rest of the way down, and pauses to adjust.

Dean's head falls forward on to Cas' chest, and he grabs on to Cas' hips.

Cas begins moving, slowly rotating his hips and he tosses his head back as he feels Dean brush over his sweet spot. He grabs on to the back of the couch for leverage and begins to speed up, bowing his head to meet the lust driven kisses of the plumber beneath him.

"Mmm, fuck... Cas... You're so fucking..." Dean bites on to Cas' lip and stifles a moan as he feels the beginnings of his orgasm building up in the pit of his stomach, "So good at this."

Cas pushes Dean in to another kiss and slows the rhythm down again, arching his back for a deeper intrusion, and he moans in to Dean's mouth as the plumber's dick brushes against his prostate again.

"Fuck..." Dean moans and grips tighter on to Cas' hips as the other man keeps up the relentless rhythm, and he can feel his imminent orgasm getting closer, and the noises Cas is making are helping his case none. His breath is coming in short, sharp gasps, and he moans against as he feels himself buried deep inside Cas; deeper than he thinks he's ever been. It drives him wild that Cas seems to take in his whole length without a complaint. Dean angles his hips up, and smiles as Cas swears and drops his head down on to his shoulder. He hears Cas muttering his name, and brings his hand round to start jerking Cas off again, in perfect time with Cas' movements.

"Ohhhh, Dean..." Cas kisses Dean again, and it's rough and it's dirty and it's almost painful, but neither man can think about that as they begin to fall apart; their breathing and movements becoming more erratic, and Cas can hear Dean chanting his name over and over, and he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as Dean brings his other hand in to play and squeezes his balls. It is the final straw for Cas, and he breaks away from the kiss, crying out his release as he comes all over Dean's chest and chin, and he watches as Dean tosses his head back and arches his back, and he slams himself down on to the plumber once, twice and a third time, and Dean's face contorts in absolute ecstasy as his own orgasm takes hold, and Cas feels the heat inside him as Dean spills his own release. He fucks Dean through his orgasm until finally, he can't move any more, and he collapses forward on to the plumber, and the both sit, panting and satiated until Cas finally becomes too uncomfortable, and slides off Dean's lap.

An hour, and a shower each, later, Cas is mooching about the kitchen making coffee and Dean is drying his hair in the living room, half paying attention to the television, which is droning on about global catastrophes and the usual garble. Dean changes the channel. It is totally out of habit, when Dean wanders over to the door and opens it to the knocker.

Mrs. Carpenter is standing the other side, clad in her fluffy pajamas, robe and slippers, and with a smile on her face, a smile which only get wider when she sees Dean on the other side of the door, towel draped round his shoulders, looking rather pleased with himself.

Dean immediately flushes and apologizes to Mrs. Carpenter, and calls out to Cas. "I, uh, Cas' washing machine leaked, and I had to... Get clean..."

Mrs. Carpenter lays a hand on Dean's arm and smiles sweetly up at him. "Okay, dear. Whatever you say."

Cas approaches and stops himself from laying a hand on Dean's back, and he smiles down at Mrs. Carpenter. "Is everything okay, Mrs. Carpenter?"

"I was just wondering if you boys have seen my little Loki again? I didn't name after the God of mischief for nothing, you know?" She lets herself in, and the two men part and allow her through.

"I've just made coffee if you would like a cup, Mrs. Carpenter?"

She waves a hand at him. "Thank you, darling, but I'm okay. I'll be going to bed very soon. Just need this blasted cat in before I can settle."

"I'll go check the back yard," Dean offers, scurrying towards the French doors and letting himself out a little too quickly.

Cas goes to follow, but a dainty little hand holds him back. He turns to the elderly lady, who is grinning up at him wickedly, and he suddenly feels afraid.

"I see you've taken my advice, Castiel?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She laughs and pats him on the arm. "Oh don't be so modest. I've been around long enough to _know_ these things. It doesn't bother me."

It's Cas' turn to flush, and he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Carpenter."

"Oh, nonsense! He seems like a lovely young man, and I'm sure you will be very happy together." She chuckles to herself. "Maybe you'll be a hundred and still married like me and the old windbag next door!"

Castiel grins, but it is stiff, terrified, and he lets out his breath when Dean walks in, avec cat and announces his arrival.

"Found your little trickster, Mrs. Carpenter." Dean fusses the cat, and the cat begins purring loudly. "He was fertilizing the flowers again."

"Oh, you little Devil," Mrs. Carpenter scolds as she takes her cat from Dean. "Thank you boy, very much." She turns to the door, which Cas opens for her, and steps outside, and she turns to smile at them again. "You boys have fun tonight." She winks and potters off towards her own house, chortling away to herself as the two men stand in the door way, staring in horror.

"Oh well," Dean's voice makes Cas jump. "I guess she heard us."  
"Dean!" Cas' voice cranks up several notches in disbelief at his casual attitude.

"What?" Dean slips his arms around Cas' waist and kicks the door shut.

Cas doesn't actually have anything more to say, so he tries to make his point by attempting to squirm out of the plumber-come-electrician's grip and aiming to storm off in to the kitchen and make coffee in a huff. He manages, but Dean soon catches up, and he closes the kitchen blinds, and comes up behind Cas as he is pouring the coffees out. The plumber presses open mouthed kisses on Cas' neck, and pushes his already perking up private area in to Cas' ass, and his hands trail down over the front of Cas' jeans.

"Dean, stop it."

Dean laughs huskily in his ear and pushes in to Cas' ass again, and he cups the rapidly growing member in the front of Cas' pants, and he whispers. "Now, you don't really mean that, do you?"

And who the fuck is Cas to disagree? He drops his hands to the work surface and stands still, spreading his legs, and he doesn't stop Dean. Not when the plumber pulls down his jeans, not when he pulls down his boxers, not even when he feels the plumber pushing back inside him again. He just pushes his ass out to Dean and lets him have his wicked way with him, and appreciating it even more when Dean begins to jerk him off again.

No. Cas really, really, really doesn't want Dean to stop.

**So... Best plumber/electrician/Mr Fix It guy EVER? I'd say so. ;) Let me know what you think! Woo hoo! Another finished project :D Thank you for your support people x x**


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